After the Bankrupt Heiress Married into a Rich Family - Chapter 47

Chapter 47: Searching for the Heart

[Part 1] Mingzhu’s defenses crumbled.

Time flew by. The May Day holiday ended, and life resumed its busy rhythm as people returned to work and school. Rong Zhao went to the office as usual, while Mingzhu remained as leisurely as ever.

This morning, Rong Zhao stepped out of the bathroom to find Mingzhu already awake. She was rolling around in the blankets, refusing to get up; her nightgown had ridden up to her waist, and her hair was a messy nest covering her face.

Rong Zhao stood by the bed, watching with a smile for a moment before leaning down to brush the hair from Mingzhu’s face. She pulled the nightgown back down, tucked the covers around Mingzhu’s belly button, and then over her shoulders. “Careful not to catch a cold.”

Mingzhu looked up at her and chuckled. “Does your family have a tradition of covering the belly button, too?”

Rong Zhao smiled, twirling a strand of Mingzhu’s red hair. “My classmate from abroad is arriving today. I won’t be back for dinner, so don’t wait for me.”

The good mood Mingzhu had woken up with vanished instantly.

“She’s arriving today?” Mingzhu asked, looking up. Having just woken, her voice was soft and her eyes were tender.

Rong Zhao: “Mhm.”

Mingzhu: “Are you spending the day showing her around Jiangyue?”

Rong Zhao: “If I have time, I’ll go. If not, I’ll have Secretary Qian accompany her.”

Mingzhu: “I could show her around. I’m very good at talking; I won’t let her get bored.”

Rong Zhao thought for a moment. “Better not. Your personalities might not clash well. She’s a workaholic; her casual remarks might accidentally offend you.”

Mingzhu: “…”

So, she’s a ‘catfish’ in the workplace. (A high-achiever who pressures others). If that were the case, they probably wouldn’t get along.

“Fine, then you and Secretary Qian can take her,” Mingzhu nodded. She felt an inexplicable bitterness in her heart and reached out to touch Rong Zhao’s leg as she stood by the bed.

The skin was smooth, soft, and supple—like a boiled egg.

Rong Zhao raised an eyebrow. “What is it?”

I’m a little unhappy, Mingzhu thought. Over the past two months, Rong Zhao had rarely socialized. She usually came home on time to have dinner with Mingzhu. Even if the chairman of a strategic partner visited Jiangyue, Rong Zhao would let her father handle the socializing while she only received them in the company conference room.

Rong Zhao believed that business wasn’t negotiated at the dinner table. A deal made over drinks wasn’t necessarily a good one. Business depended on contracts, proposals, and attitudes—not alcohol tolerance.

Mingzhu looked up and smiled. “Nothing. Just touching. You’re so soft, Rongrong.”

Rong Zhao: “Aren’t you soft, too?”

Mingzhu’s heart felt dry, but she replied playfully: “I’m too familiar with my own body. Yours is better.”

Rong Zhao leaned down and caressed Mingzhu’s face, her fingertips lingering. She felt Mingzhu’s skin was actually much softer than her own. “If you’re bored, go get a facial or a massage. Maintain your beauty.”

Mingzhu gave a sweet smile. “Mrs. Rong understands.”

After breakfast, Rong Zhao went to work. Mingzhu lay sprawled at the foot of the bed in a daze. She didn’t open the curtains or eat breakfast; she didn’t even unlock the bedroom door. Her left arm hung off the edge of the bed, swaying aimlessly.

With her head tilted, the usual sparkle was gone from her eyes. She stared blankly at the white wall, at the Monet painting, and at Rong Zhao’s silk-colored pillow.

Rong Zhao had excellent hair; it was rare for even a single strand to fall on the pillow. Mingzhu’s bored gaze scanned the pillow again and again. Suddenly, she crawled over, searching frantically for a strand of Rong Zhao’s black hair.

She couldn’t find one. Not even under the pillow.

She searched for a long time, her lips pressing tighter and tighter. Finally, she whipped the quilt aside and began meticulously searching the sheets for any trace of Rong Zhao’s hair.

At the entrance of the Junxiao Equestrian Club, a massive black landscape stone was engraved with red characters: Xiaojun Equestrian Club.

Spread across the vast grounds were fan-shaped buildings housing reception rooms and indoor training arenas. In the stables behind, Mingzhu gently stroked her beautiful golden horse, “Moon.” It had been a long time, and she missed it dearly.

Horses are intelligent and recognize their owners. Moon nudged Mingzhu with its nose, acting as spoiled as a cat. Since Bai Zhaolin and Shao Simian had invested here primarily to ensure Mingzhu’s horse was well-cared for, the Akhal-Teke was impeccably clean and beautiful; there was no “horse smell” in its stable.

“Moon is as beautiful as ever,” Jiangjiang said with admiration. She had been brought here when Mingzhu first got this golden horse years ago. Back then, Moon was much shorter.

Mingzhu was proud. “As beautiful as I am.”

Jiangjiang laughed and patted Mingzhu’s back. “Vain girl.”

Mingzhu laughed, hugging Moon’s neck. On the 3rd, she and Rong Zhao had moved some equipment from the Bai Mansion to Rongguang Villa. With that barrier broken, Mingzhu finally felt comfortable coming to see her horse.

Dressed in a black-and-white equestrian outfit and a safety helmet, Mingzhu caught up with her old friend. Once they had reacquainted, she flashed a smile at Jiangjiang and leaped into the saddle. She looked up at the sun; fortunately, it was veiled behind thin clouds, allowing her to look straight ahead. Moon let out an excited whinny.

Mingzhu’s excitement peaked. She gripped the reins, squeezed her legs, and Moon bolted forward.

“Hey! Wait for me!” Jiangjiang shouted, hurrying the groom to give her a horse. She had learned to ride, but she lacked Mingzhu’s courage; she didn’t dare go that fast and struggled to keep up. “Mingzhu, slow down! Don’t fall!”

Mingzhu was going too fast to hear her. There was an unidentifiable irritability wound up in her heart. This morning had been bizarre—she had spent over an hour searching for Rong Zhao’s hair on the bed for no reason. If Jiangjiang hadn’t called to ask how the “testing” was going, she might still be acting like a fool.

The arena was large, and Mingzhu was riding the horse she had known since childhood. Neither needed time to adjust before they were galloping freely. The wind blew back Mingzhu’s loose hair. She squinted, her vision clear as she became one with the horse, rising and falling with its powerful rhythm.

Watching the boundless scenery, hearing the wind and hoofbeats, and smelling the earth and grass, Mingzhu’s adrenaline and dopamine surged. A free, joyful laugh escaped her lips.

Why obsess over whether she likes me or not? Why imagine Rong Zhao eating and shopping with an old classmate? It’s childish. Stop thinking about it.

By the time Mingzhu finished riding and returned to find Jiangjiang, her mood had brightened, and Moon’s steps were light. Jiangjiang, meanwhile, was so tired she had sat down on the ground.

Mingzhu rode Moon in circles around her, looking down teasingly. “Jiangjiang, your stamina is pathetic.”

Jiangjiang looked up at her for a moment and suddenly asked, “Does Rong Zhao really not like you?”

Mingzhu: “…”

Defeated in one second. The ride had been for nothing! All that progress, wasted!

The gloom returned, but Mingzhu didn’t want to show it. She smiled at the surroundings. “Of course she does. Everyone likes me. Is she blind? Why wouldn’t she like me?”

Jiangjiang: “Oh, I see. She doesn’t like you.”

Mingzhu: “…” She gritted her teeth.

Jiangjiang, who understood human anatomy well, could see the tension in Mingzhu’s jaw even from a distance. “I was wondering why you were acting crazy just now. Turns out you found out she doesn’t like you.”

Mingzhu dismounted, wanting to let Moon trample Jiangjiang.

Jiangjiang toyed with a piece of foxtail grass and looked up. “It’s my fault. I really thought she liked you and encouraged you to test her. I didn’t expect the result to be—”

Mingzhu glared at her. “What.”

“—that you are the one who likes Rong Zhao.”

“Impossible!” Mingzhu screeched. “Rong Zhao is so cold! She’s cold-blooded to the bone. During high school exams, she wouldn’t give me an inch. She never smiles at me, never asks me to hang out. Every time we meet, she just tells me to study hard and chase her. When I was studying in the U.S. in that terrible, unsafe place, she didn’t visit me once! She didn’t even care if I faced discrimination! Am I crazy? Why would I like her?”

Jiangjiang was now certain. She clapped her hands. “Ooh, her defenses are down! She’s totally triggered!”

Mingzhu: “…”

Jiangjiang burst into laughter. Enraged, Mingzhu lunged at her and grabbed her neck.

Evening on Fu’an Road. The neon lights had flickered on, brightening the gray dusk. In a five-story old mansion, the “Shiyan Restaurant”—a time-honored brand—was bustling with diners.

Mingzhu and Jiangjiang were sitting in a car in the courtyard, looking up at a third-floor private room. The lights were on, and two women sat opposite each other. One had a perfect silhouette and elegant movements: Rong Zhao.

There were only a few parking spots in the courtyard. Jiangjiang had called her father abroad to pull some strings; the owner of the restaurant had personally moved his own car out to give them a spot.

If Jiangjiang wanted something done, she did it decisively. After hearing Mingzhu mention Rong Zhao was eating with a classmate, Jiangjiang had investigated, found the location, and dragged Mingzhu here. Mingzhu had been completely unaware until they arrived. She wanted to leave, but Jiangjiang locked the doors.

“Why leave? Let’s watch,” Jiangjiang said, looking up.

Mingzhu: “…I really don’t like Rong Zhao. Why won’t you believe me?”

Jiangjiang brushed her off. “Fine, you don’t like her. I do, okay? I just want to see what’s going on between her and her classmate. The classmate is actually quite pretty. They must be close; she came all the way to Jiangyue just to see Rong Zhao.”

Mingzhu looked up. She is pretty, she thought. Long hair, a natural and confident way of tucking it behind her ear—she looked like a Chinese elite from the UK. Her smile was generous and easy.

Also, this restaurant is delicious, Mingzhu thought. While other places mask ingredients with heavy seasoning, this place was light, bringing out the natural flavors. Even the vegetables were amazing. She could see some children sitting by the windows.

Jiangjiang studied Mingzhu. “What are you thinking about?”

Mingzhu’s stomach felt uncomfortable—though perhaps it wasn’t her stomach. She clutched it. “I’m hungry. I want their cabbage with tofu, braised spring bamboo shoots, and scrambled eggs with toon.” She looked at Jiangjiang expectantly. “Are you hungry?”

Jiangjiang: “…” Unbelievable. All she thinks about is food. She pushed the door open. “Then let’s go. Let’s go in and eat.”

Mingzhu panicked and pulled her back. “Wait! No! Let’s eat somewhere else!”